Chances
by TheRazzleDazzleDame
Summary: And there she was again, staring into that face...-second chapter redone-
1. Chapter 1

It was embarrassing. Completely, totally, all around _humiliating_.

Here he was, a trained from birth killing machine, a hardened soldier with too many scars to count, sitting in a non-clone hospital -

With a stomach ache.

CT-1191 had been doing his regular rounds around the senate building, wishing he hadn't been put on such a task, when a sudden dizziness overcame him. He pushed it off at first, thinking it nothing more than a lack of sleep.

He hadn't been sleeping well since he had landed on Curoscant. Of course, that may have had something to do with what had happened _before_ he was placed on the most populated planet in the Republic.

But CT-1191 didn't want to think about that, and so he didn't.

So, he ignored the growing dizziness and continued patrolling. It was a cool night, and he was thankful he had his armor on. His body suit kept his body in a comfortable, _controlled_ climate. In other words, while he watched other beings huddle into their coats for warmth, he merely stood and allowed his suit to do its job. He didn't know why clones were pitied, honestly. They were superior to regular humans, were given everything neccasary for survival, didn't need to worry about money...

A shiver ran through his body, cutting off his line of thought.

He shifted his weight to his other leg, hoping the strange reaction was due to standing in one place for too long.

The quaking didn't stop.

CT-1191 stretched his arms over his head, intwining his fingers together as he did so. Several pops and snaps reverberated through his body. He lowered his arms and noticed how _badly_ he was shaking. Apparently it wasn't caused by standing in one place too long...

He took a few steps to his right, then returned to his position.

Definately not due to standing for too long.

He growled, forcing his body to stop shaking. He managed to keep it still for a good two minutes, then his teeth began chattering.

Was his suit defective? He would have to talk to someone about this, it was _unacceptable_. He felt a chill rise up his arms and legs and frowned.

With a few adjustments in his helmet, the temperature in his suit rose to compensate for the chill he was feeling. His body stopped shaking and he sighed. He needed to be worrying about his _job_, not how cold it was.

About ten minutes later, he began to feel nauseous.

CT-1191 groaned. _What_ was _wrong_ with him?

He hadn't eaten anything but a ration bar a few hours ago, so his stomach wasn't acting up over something he had eaten.

He shifted his weight again, feeling light-headed. There was a strange sensation running through his body. He knew he was burning up, but he wanted more heat.

_Ah_, _I must be ill_, he mused as he looked at his quivering hands.

He had never been sick _sick_ before. He had hit his head pretty hard once and threw up in his lap. _That_ had been a rather unpleasant experience, but his stomach hadn't _hurt_ like this.

Then his abdomen began actually _spasming_. His arms automatically wrapped around his middle, hoping to stop the painful reaction. He could feel the muscles in his middle relaxing, then constricting painfully.

CT-1191 barely managed to make it into the nearest hospital. He knew he needed to stay at his post, but the pain made his feet move. What a _sad_ thing it was to realize how weak he was when he knew he wasn't...

The hospital, he had realized too late, wasn't even a clone hospital.

But he was _hurting_. The nausea was getting stronger, and he was hoping he wouldn't throw up in the damn lobby.

He realized he was being stared at and groaned silently. _Why_ was he so stupid? _Why _hadn't he just gone back to the barracks and asked to see a doctor _there_? He heard their whispering questions to each other and rolled his eyes behind the safety of his helmet.

_Yes, I'm a clone, no, I am not a droid, yes, I know where I am_...

A rather painful spasm shook his body and he doubled over, trying not to fall to the floor. The whispers stopped, and no one moved. He felt his cheeks burn, and not from the fever.

After recovering, he turned to leave. No one was willing to help _here_, so he'd _have_ to walk all the way back to the barracks...

"Excuse me?"

What was the point? Maybe he'd get hit by a speeder? He felt like dying...

"Sir? _Excuse me_,"

CT-1191 barely heard the voice right behind him. He then felt a hand on his plated shoulder, something he _did_ notice. He spun around, instantly regretting it. Whoever it was had almost been hit in the face by his armored forearm.

Also, the quick movement did nothing for his spinning head.

He fell against whoever had wanted his attention -

And didn't stop falling until he and whoever it was hit the floor.

The only sound he heard was a gasp, and realized it was the person he fell onto. He looked through bleary eyes into the face of a woman.

_Oh, a woman. _CT-1191 sucked in a breath and did his best to scramble to his feet. "I-I'm sorry ma'am, I...ugh.." The scrambling ended him up on floor on his rear. His arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "_Shab_..."

It _hurt_. Tears stung his eyes as the muscle cramps became worse.

The woman was on her knees, beside the trooper. "Sir? What's wrong? What's hurting?"

He knew it was ridiculous, but it sounded as if the woman had been around troopers before. She sounded like the civillian nurses that worked in the Curoscant GAR hospital. "My...stomach."

CT-1191 felt cool air hit his face. She had taken off his helmet.

"Oh," she gasped. It almost sounded as if she were in _awe_.

He was in too much pain to give it too much thought at that moment, though, and sat in silence. Even if it _was_ strange, since she had clearly worked in a GAR hospital before. Surely she had seen that there were human faces under the helmets? It shouldn't have surprised her _that_ much.

"I can't treat you here," she said in a whisper against his ear. She sounded nervous. "Do you trust me?"

CT-1191 looked up through watery eyes, not knowing what to think. His first gut response was _no_. He had no reason to trust a _civillian, mongrel_ stranger. A brother would be different, even if he _was_ a stranger. But as he looked her in the face, seeing nothing but worry -

"Yes," he answered.

* * *

><p>(AN: This is a companion piece to _Dangerously Disarming_. You don't have to read the other, it's just how this idea started. Am I going too far? Tell me what ya think please. There will be more, depending on your responses. I've never wrote a story quite like this before, so bear with me. I don't plan on this story being too long, but we know how that goes. ;) I'll try to update soon.)


	2. Chapter 2

CT-1191 realized he had never seen Curoscant at night from the skylanes before. The bright lights became one big blur as the speeder weaved through traffic. He had to shut his eyes to keep from really hurling.

In any other instance he probably would have enjoyed the sight. That is to say if there would ever be an instance he would be in Curoscant's skylanes with a view of the city.

He moved his head away from the lights and slowly opened his eyes. There was a moment of panic when all he could see was a big blur and his head felt like it was turning itself inside out, but the moment passed quickly and pale fingers came into view.

"Oh," he gasped aloud. He cursed, not meaning to actually say anything. A pair of bright eyes settled onto his and he realized his helmet wasn't on his head.

Right, she took it off. And had placed it in the back seat. Who was she anyway? CT-1191 watched as the woman turned her attention back to the road. It was getting harder and harder to put things together, and he started to wonder if agreeing to go with a stranger was such a good idea. He couldn't trust her, even if she was a nurse. It was a completely ridiculous situation.

Maybe if he asked she'd take him back to the barracks? No, he would _tell_ her to take him back to the barracks. As a civilian it was practically illegal to take in a clone; they were GAR property after all. He carefully sat up straighter in his seat, holding his middle tightly. Not that it did much, his armor made sure of that. After a few moments of thinking of a suitable way to say he would like to go back to the barracks, he spoke.

"Ma'am," he started, not liking how pitiful his voice sounded. He meant to sound commanding, superior. But it just sounded weak and – it killed him to admit it – needy.

He had never, in his life, been needy.

She gave him a glance, making sure to keep most of her attention on the traffic. "Yeah? I can give you a pain killer now if you want. I would have in the hospital, but that wouldn't have..." She paused, a frown pulling her face down. "Uh, nevermind. What's the matter?"

A pain-killer sounded wonderful at that moment...

_Di'kut_! He needed back at the barracks, not drugged up with some woman he had just met.

"I - " He stopped when his middle constricted painfully. He had sounded even _more_ pathetic than the last time. "...I need to get back to," a gasp, "...to the barracks."

Yeah, he was about to just stop talking all together.

The speeder slowed down, eventually coming to a stop before the woman responded. She unbuckled her safety belt, then his.

Her hair smelled like something frilly, like flowers. He wasn't sure why the frak that mattered, but it caught his attention. He had had a brother use a frilly shampoo before; it wasn't on purpose, of course. It was a prank of sorts. The guy hadn't even noticed until he had left the showers.

He remembered how he had teased him mercilessly.

"What's your name?" She asked as she placed a cool hand on his face. She was checking for fever, he knew, but his body was telling him that she wanted to cause harm. He had never trusted – or really liked – civilians. They were weak, needed protecting, and didn't give a flip about the war unless it directly affected them.

He would have growled if he thought it wouldn't take too much energy. So, he settled for the stuttering thing instead. "M-my name? Ma'am, what does that - " A sudden pressure on his middle made him gasp. Why was she pushing there? Was he going to have to hit her?

"Ah, what...what are you doing..?" He sounded completely different from how he truly felt. He really, _really_ wanted to make it clear that no one touched him. _No one_ touched him, unless it was a clone medic or a brother. He knew he would have hit her if he wasn't hurting so much.

The frown never left her face; it was infuriating how clearly she didn't know how much he wanted her to _stop touching him_. "I'll take you back to the barracks when I make sure you're ok."

Suddenly - through the pain and disorientation - he was reeling. She wasn't going to take him back? What was she going to do to him? What if she was some crazy person -

"I need to go back." He said as he pushed away from her. It was hard in a speeder seat, but he managed somehow. "S-seriously, if I don't…" Another spasm left him gasping and so his chance to explain how much he didn't want her help was gone. _Great. _

"Shh," her hand was cupping his cheek. He felt his body try to tense, but couldn't quite manage due to the shivering.

"Sweetheart, it's ok. Calm down." Her voice was quiet, and she almost seemed hurt. Why the frag was she offended? He was being kidnapped! What was this? Were all women this stupid? Or was it not just women but civilians? Soft-hearted idiots…

"Ma'am, I am not – " He stopped, clamping a hand over his mouth. He turned, throwing his head out of the speeder -

And threw up. He would have been embarrassed if he wasn't so out of it. He fell back into the seat, his head falling back. He thought he would feel better, and he did, but it wasn't as much as he would have liked.

He was still shaking like crazy, too.

The woman had stepped out of the speeder, and was opening the passenger door. He felt an arm wrap around his middle as he was urged to stand.

"Come on," a hushed voice said in his ear. He leaned into the voice, feeilng the arm tighten around him as he got on his feet. He wasn't sure why he did that; all he really wanted to do was get away from this stranger that had _kidnapped_ him. Yeah, he had agreed to go with her, but still! He was delirious! He heard a surprised whoa as the woman tried to keep hold of him.

He tried to stand on his own, but failed miserably. He was probably a lot heavier than her, especially with his armor on. It was a _complete_ fail and he ended up almost pulling her down with him. He kind of wished he would have…

She laughed – and his anger grew at the sound – taking a step forward to keep herself steady. "Let's take this slow."

Neither spoke as they headed toward a building CT-1191 didn't know. His earlier anger had died away and now all he wanted was to sleep. The woman could be dealt with later...

…if he ever woke up, anyway. For all he knew she could be some crazy person and kill him in his sleep. He had heard stories about the black market wanting fresh organs. It wasn't a stretch; she was a nurse, and probably knew how to cut all of his vitals out without damaging anything.

He froze in fear. She of course noticed and gave him a worried look. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Uh…Chance."

Did he _really_ just give her his name?

"I'm sorry?" She asked. Chance sighed, feeling stupid. He had just told the crazy lady his name.

"My name's Chance," he said quickly, looking away from her. He would have sighed if it wouldn't have hurt his middle. Of course, _everything_ was hurting his middle at the moment.

She didn't say anything for a while, and they finally reached her front door. Chance was hoping she wouldn't say anything else. She really did rub him the wrong way, and whether it was right or wrong, he couldn't help but feel that she was somehow evil. Her outside appearance didn't fool him; she was off somehow.

He just had to – not by curiosity but _necessity_ – find out _how_ off. And that meant staying awake no matter what.

Too bad the next thing he knew everything went dark. He would have gone on a cussing spree if he was awake. Although, he would have been _delighted_ to see how hard of a time the woman was having carrying him into her home...

* * *

><p>(AN: So I made some changes. I decided to make Chance a rather…uh, difficult character. How'd I do? Do you guys like this better or the last thing? I like this better, (apparently lol). I'm sorry for putting this up again, but I made some rather major changes. I didn't like the name I gave the mystery woman either. Alright, we'll see how this goes...)


End file.
